


Words on My Skin

by Crescence



Series: Deja Vu [2]
Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Codependency, Coming Out, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Lots of Barns, M/M, Post-Series, Series Compliant, Six times Lukas touches Philip and Six Time Philip has feels about it, Well technically five, barns, mid-series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 10:56:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11401098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crescence/pseuds/Crescence
Summary: Lukas, he whispers to him. Lukas hums in response and Philip feels it reverberate through his own chest more than he hears it. His arms tighten around him.Does it feel different to you too?...I almost lost you,Lukas tells him, dark eyes heavy on his. Philip cups his face in his hands, strains forward to kiss him soft like the night keeping them hidden.





	Words on My Skin

 

* * *

 

[[x](https://open.spotify.com/track/0pQlcs8qsOOLphM8laWr5v)]

 

Philip never thought someone could kiss with such hesitation and yet with such intensity. Lukas is a war waging under his hands, every inch of his body trashing itself against the need he is holding in check. His hands shake and so does his voice, even the gasps falling from his lips shudder with incredulity, with fragile wonder, with fear. His lips chase Philip’s while the rest of him recoils. His hands find Philip’s face while he frowns into the kiss. He is moving on pure instinct, yielding to the ache of his heartbeat Philip can feel race beneath his palm and he can see, he can feel that Lukas’ mind spins every thought in his head in a whirlwind, throwing around every word he has ever been told, every lie he has ever told himself about who he is, about what he is and crashing them against the walls of his skin.

Philip’s shoe keeps skidding on the beer they spilled on the wooden floor. All he wants is to turn into Lukas on the bed, pull him in, close that maddening distance between them that’s been simultaneously shrinking and expanding beyond belief the past few weeks. He wants to destroy it, wants to feel his hands on him, his arms around him. All he wants is to feel the weight of him settling on his bones and his need is razor sharp, cutting the air in his lungs, flooding hot in his veins. This was a crystalline dream he was afraid to hold even in the whispers of his mind, something he thought was so impossible, the finespun idea of it only gave him pain when no one but him could listen but here they are, making out in a cabin miles away from the entire world and it was Lukas that cracked, it was Lukas that let slip, him that betrayed the intricate pretension they’d built, that the only reason they hung out where no one was looking was to shoot videos of Lukas riding.  

Lukas’ hands clutch at his shirt, his knuckles white with effort to hold back and he is wild and untamed in a way that seizes Philip’s heart in a desperate grip. The taste of him in his mouth has a tinge of the beer they shared and he can’t get enough of him, he can’t stop reaching for more. He can’t believe it is happening, that Lukas wants him bad enough he is fighting himself for it and it is in his hands and in his eyes and every note in his voice, in every slide of his tongue against his and he looks so lost and helpless in wanting, Philip wants to lay himself bare open, strip himself down to his soul so that Lukas never has to worry there is another thing he has to fight for to have him.

 _Lukas…_ he mutters against his lips between kisses, stunned that Lukas keeps his face close, tip of his nose brushing Philip’s cheek. _You…_ _you can touch me,_ he tells him in the quiet and watches his eyes go wide. It’s the exact shade of the blue that’s been haunting him in his dreams and they search his face and Lukas hesitates, want burning in every thread of his composure and his voice comes trembling, _I… I don’t… I’m not…_

 _It’s okay,_ Philip tells him and tugs his shirt off, feeling more naked than he has ever felt in his life. Lukas’ mouth falls open and he stares at him like he is something astonishing and terrifying at the same time. His fingers curl into his palm and something dark and private catches fire in his eyes. Philip wants to press his lips to the color rising up his neck, bury his face into the heat of it and taste its warmth on his tongue. _It’s okay,_ he tells him instead, reaching for his hand and Lukas lets him, fiery blue eyes blown wide as Philip presses his palm flat against his chest. _It’s fine,_ Philip says again and lets go of Lukas’ hand and closes his eyes, waiting for him to pull his away but it stays warm against his skin. When he finally moves it, Lukas traces it lower and to the right, so slow and tender Philip feels goosebumps blooming across his arms, the hair at the nape of his neck stands on end. Lukas aligns his fingers with the hollows of his ribs and then his touch slides down his side and steals a shuddering gasp from Philip’s lips. He opens his eyes to find Lukas’ fixed on him and for the first time since Philip kissed him in a mindless blood rush, there is only wonder in his eyes. Pure, innocent, spellbound.

Beneath his war, hidden under waves and waves of denial and lies, Philip finds him.

 _You like that,_ Lukas whispers, utterly entranced and it isn’t a question as much as it’s a statement and it’s Philip’s turn to flush all the way down to his chest but he keeps looking into his eyes and nods. _Yeah. Yeah, I do._

Lukas reaches with his other hand and runs it up his chest while holding him close with the hand on the curve of his waist. He scoots closer, his hand moves up to his neck and he keeps it there, palm over his pulse and fingers in his hair, looking into Philip’s eyes with nothing short of marvel in his eyes. Philip’s heart stutters.

 _You are so…_ Lukas mutters slowly, absently like he is speaking to himself, his dark gaze alternating between Philip’s eyes and his lips.

 _Scrawny?_ Philip provides helpfully.

 _Beautiful,_ Lukas blurts without thinking and the aftermath of the word leaves Philip’s chest cavity in ruins. Everything inside him catches fire all at once and a single surprised gasp breaks at the back of his throat before he surges forward and crushes their lips, swallowing Lukas’ breath. Lukas’ arms come around him, one hand splaying across his spine and he thinks he wouldn’t mind if he died if it meant that he’d get to feel Lukas’ touch on his skin.

 

* * *

 

[[x](https://open.spotify.com/track/7LwGBxB0h0CVmkOZxYKn0g)]

 

_\- Are you awake_

_\- Yeah._  
_Can’t sleep?_  
  
_\- No. I hate the shit I see_  
  
_\- Lukas_  
  
_\- I know what u gonna say._  
_I told u._  
_We can’t so drop it._  
  
_\- Ok_

 _\- U are pissed aren’t you_  
  
_\- No Lukas I’m not. I just want to help_  
_This is bigger than you and me_  
  
_\- You are helping_  
_It’s enough_  
  
_\- Ok_  
  
_\- What are u doing_  
  
_\- Reading a stupid book about some kids trapped in a maze_  
  
_\- Why are they in a maze_  
  
_\- That’s the only reason Im still reading this. I want to know why_  
  
_\- It’s gonna be a shitty reason_  
  
_\- Yeah probably_  
_What are you doing?_  
  
_\- Trying to find crap to watch_

_\- Like what?_

_\- I dunno. Something that isn't a stupid cartoon._  
  
_\- Porn???_  
  
_\- Ugh no_  
_Why would I_  
  
_\- I dunno. To pass time?_  
_Doesn’t everybody watch porn_  
  
_\- Do you_  
  
_\- Uhh_  
_I’ve seen some_  
_you?_  
  
_\- I don’t like porn_  
  
_\- I don’t think anyone really likes it._  
_It’s just something people do to jack off_  
  
_\- Does it work_  
  
_\- What_  
  
_\- Nothing_  
  
_\- Does what work_  
  
_\- Nothing. Forget I asked_

  
_\- Sometimes it gets me there, sometimes it does nothing_  
  
_\- I can’t do it_  
  
_\- You mean you can’t watch it?_  
  
_\- No I mean I can’t_  
_do it_  
_its_  
_I cant stop thinking. I keep knowing Im not thinking stuff Im supposed to think_  
_Everything feels wrong_  
  
_\- I think about you_  
  
_\- Philip_  
  
_\- I’m sorry_  
  
_\- No fuck_  
_god_  
_fuck_  
_does it work_  
  
_\- every time_  
  
_\- god I want to do that too_  
  
_\- You can_  
_we were there_  
_you can just remember_  
_you don’t have to think about it Lukas_  
_you were already there with me_  
_just remember_  
_go as far as you want_  
  
_\- Philip_  
  
_\- I would go as far as you want_  
  
_\- i want to hear your voice_

 

* * *

 [[x](https://open.spotify.com/track/2uPHC9yqjKPLX4vOjD8jiP)]

  
He still smells like the streets of New York. Philip tightens his hold around his waist as Lukas blows through the empty country roads in the dead of the night, a roar in velvet black, a jolt of light reflecting off the windows of sleeping houses and sleepless factories. With his visor lifted, Philip presses himself against his back as close as possible, inhaling the life and electric of the city off his clothes.  Taking a wide turn into a bend in the road, Lukas’ glowed hand drops the throttle and cups his knee, protecting him as their velocity tips them towards the asphalt. Through the front of his jacket, Philip tucks his hands further into the warmth of him, clutching his shirt beneath the denim.

His bicycle is hidden at Lukas’ shed so Lukas rides past the dirt road leading to the Caldwell farm and doesn’t stop until he sees his own. At the head of the road he kills the engine and they push the bike towards the barns together, barely whispering a few words to each other on the way.

As soon as Lukas secures his bike in the barn, Philip finds himself pressed against the wall between a lawnmower and Lukas’ desk cluttered with spare parts. A pair of gloves falls in a heap of hay and cold hands slip under his shirt, Lukas’ tongue slides into his mouth. Philip wraps both his arms around Lukas’ neck and pulls himself impossibly close. His hands tangle in Lukas’ hair as he rises on his toes and he can barely see in the dark but he can feel the heat of Lukas’ skin, feel the fire simmering beneath, the blaze of it growling at the back of his throat. Lukas tasted freedom tonight in the streets of New York. A kind of freedom no race completed at the height of a jump will ever allow him to feel and the heady rush of it still runs in his veins like a shock of adrenaline. Philip doesn’t know how far that courage will take him. All he wants, all he can think of is Lukas so he leaves himself open in every way possible for Lukas to take if he wanted.

The silence they are shrouded in breaks with a moan from Philip when Lukas’ hands climb up to his face and his body replaces the now empty space, pushing himself flush into him, chest to hips. Philip bites his lip to keep quiet, brows knitting and Lukas traces his thumb along the swell of his bottom lip. Philip parts his lips for him and Lukas dips down to take it between his teeth, swallowing the sound he steals again from him. The first roll of his hips makes them both gasp; a sharp, surprised sound they hush into each other’s mouths. Lukas sways on his feet and puts his arm against the wall next to Philip’s head and Philip nearly loses his footing with the sudden jolt of pleasure flaming up between his legs, he drops his head against the wall behind him and closes his eyes, arching up into Lukas. Lukas rocks against him once, twice, three times and then stops. In the quiet thrumming with their pants, he drops his head on Philip’s shoulder and turns his face into his neck.

 _Philip,_ he says, his voice shattered.

 _It’s okay,_ Philip answers him, breathless and aching all over. He will wait. He will wait forever. He will never stop waiting for Lukas.

 _No I just,_ Lukas lifts his head and finds his eyes in the dark, cupping the side of his face. _Not like this. I don’t want to do it like this._

Philip’s breath catches in his throat.

 _You deserve better,_ Lukas whispers to him and Philip knows why his voice is shaking, why his eyes now reflect the distant lights barely reaching them. Why he turns his head to look away from him, why Philip’s fingers find tears when he holds his face.

 _So do you,_ Philip tells him and Lukas breaks down in his arms.

 

* * *

[[x](https://open.spotify.com/track/3JiWzU0JEdraOl0hC4HrYY)]

  
  
Moonlight spills through the loft doors of Lukas’ barn. The shade of the cupola dyes half of Lukas crosswise in black as he moves above him. Even fully clothed, there isn’t an inch of Philip that isn’t exposed to the full maelstrom of Lukas’ fire. From his hands under his shirt to the lips grazing along his jaw, Philip feels himself eroding in his touch. Piece by piece, Lukas strips him off his skin, dipping beneath, touching something buried so deep within, Philip aches with a kind of longing that feels older than ages, older than the seventeen years he has lived. Panting, they kiss with bruised lips, move with a listless rhythm and Philip arches his back on the carpet of hay he is pushed into, gasping Lukas’ name like nothing else ever mattered to him. Lukas’ lips find his neck and he rocks against him until they are both too close to coming apart. He stops a thrust away from the edge of oblivion. Philip closes his eyes to the feel of him crashing on top of him, tears of unbearable pleasure trickle down to his ears where he’s lying.

Intimacy has found a new volume between them. Something invisible separating them that Philip couldn’t find the ends of has broken the moment he heard the roar of Lukas’ bike two minutes away from losing all he cared about and watched him stand before Helen and turn his back on everything that ever meant something to him to keep Philip in Tivoli. Closeness now comes alive beneath their hands. The feel of Lukas at the end of his touch spans endless like he could never take enough, could never give enough in return. They find countless ways to speak without using their voices. Lukas swears he never lies to him but Philip finds there have never been any lies when they are touching. Lukas burns his honesty into his skin.

They still keep to the shadows and the quiet of corners no one occupies but there is nothing quiet about the way Lukas touches him anymore. He hides from the world outside their corners but with Philip, he doesn’t hide from himself. His hands find Philip’s skin like he was made for his touch. His lips trace along the pulse in his neck, drinking the way the pounding speeds up when he moves against him. When he looks down at him, the fire in his eyes makes Philip shiver down to his bones but the softness of his touch is what drives him insane with yearning. Every time he finds himself pinned beneath his weight, it gets harder and harder to let him go.

Philip wants to cry with how much he loves him.

Hands twined in his hair, Philip cradles him as their hearts find a slower pace. He tucks his nose in the softness of his hair and sighs, his body still reeling from being so close to coming undone.

 _Lukas,_ he whispers to him. Lukas hums in response and Philip feels it reverberate through his own chest more than he hears it. His arms tighten around him.

_Does it feel different to you too?_

Lukas doesn’t reply and Philip wonders if he has fallen asleep, head on his heartbeat. But then he raises himself on his arms, resting them on either side of Philip’s shoulders and aligns their faces until he is nose to nose with him. He runs the tip along the curve of his cheek, into the crook of his neck and Philip feels him draw a deep breath in, filling his lungs with the smell of him. The love in Philip’s heart twists wildly behind his ribcage. Lukas moves his nose back across the hinge of his jaw and then his lips are hovering above his, half a breath, less than a heartbeat away.

 _I almost lost you,_ Lukas tells him, dark eyes heavy on his. Philip cups his face in his hands, strains forward to kiss him soft like the night keeping them hidden. _You didn’t,_ he whispers back to him and Lukas closes his eyes, his adam’s apple moving in his throat as he swallows around the feeling. Philip runs a thumb along his throat before tugging his head gently down to kiss the spot below his ear. He puts his lips right there, mouth open, feeling his pulse on his tongue. _I’m here,_ he tells him a moment later, lips against his ear and voice quieter than the moon’s passing.

Lukas shivers as his lips chase his. The kiss takes them in a tide, rolls over them like a wave spearheading a storm. From the bottom of his gut to the tips of his fingers, Philip feels it expand and spread through him, the lazy, throbbing rise of something so large his skin threatens to break apart at the filaments, unable to hold it all in. Lukas holds his face in his hands, staring into his eyes through heavy lids as he kisses him and then he breaks away, drawing a string of silver from Philip’s lips that catches on the moonlight. _This,_ Lukas kisses him again, tender, hushed, with reverence. _I’m not afraid of this anymore,_ he mutters and he is a mirage bent under the pale light and Philip doesn’t remember ever dreaming something so beautiful.

 _Not of this,_ Lukas maintains and emotion sears through Philip’s chest, stealing a sound between a gasp and a sob from his lips. He takes Lukas’ lips and the tide rises, floods through his veins, crawls across his skin; a wave of heat dismantling every last thought from his mind. They kiss like two mad men delirious with thirst and Lukas keeps repeating his name and Philip pushes him back, rolling them over until Lukas is on his back and he is straddling him. His hands slide down his chest and come to a stop over his hipbones, pushing himself down and Lukas groans in his mouth and Philip whispers to him, losing the tail end of each word into the heat of Lukas’ mouth.

_Lukas… let me… touch you._

Lukas stares up at him, silver in his eyes, silver in his hair. He sits up with Philip on his lap, then holds him by the underside of his thighs, pulling in. The angle makes Philip look down into his eyes, both breathless with feeling. Lukas’ hands move up his thighs and finds the front of Philip’s jeans. Philip’s mouth falls open and something spikes electric through his blood as Lukas unbuckles his belt. Craning his neck up to find Philip’s eyes, Lukas works on his button and fly before he cups his face to kiss him. His hands find Philip’s and places them over the front of his own jeans and Philip nearly cries out with the feel of him. Half a laugh, half a heaving sob falls from his lips and Lukas stares into his eyes as he reaches down, reaches in and he touches him.

 _Philip,_ he breathes with silver eyes, his lips brushing against his. _You will never do anything alone again._

 

* * *

[[x](https://open.spotify.com/track/0FMDgIj2cVBsRwQqY4rHrC)]

 

It happens in the space between a bent knee and the first kick off the ground. The sound of the starting pistol of Red Hook High hundred meter race finds him at the front of spectators’ platform, facing the track field.  Within the moment it takes for the racing eight to launch themselves forward, the blood in his veins goes ice cold. A wave of nausea slams into him like he is suddenly grabbed by the ankle and flipped upside down. The world spins out of axis around him. Something tinkles sharply against his eardrums; a drawn-out sound with no end, deafening him to everything else. The gunshot echoes, as if no living space could accept a sound that destructive. As if nature itself was rejecting it, throwing it around until it stopped resounding.

Philip takes a step back from the fences, shaking.

_Gunshot blows across the clearing. Lukas flies off his bike, falls like a rag doll into the water. Unmoving._

Cold sweat runs down his spine. His heart loses all semblance of regularity, beats hard against his ribs, beats hard like he is suffocating. People are cheering with distorted voices, he watches the racers run past, impossibly slow as if time itself is pulled from one end, stretched endlessly into suspension. In the riving moment, no one knows Lukas is dying. No one sees it. No one knows he is dying. With the last shreds of his rational mind, he tries to find him; his eyes search the crowd and lands on nothing. Lukas isn’t there. Panic cracks through him.

_He is not moving. He is face down in the water. He is in the water. Not moving. Not moving. Not moving._

Philip feels sensation drain from his limbs. A buzzing numbness spreads from the tips of his fingers, going up; the same feeling climbs up his legs like he is sinking in tar. Pain blooms wide in his chest, reaching to the deepest ends, his heart caught in its vice grip. Everything around him turns grey. Philip can’t breathe.

_The water’s edge lurches him to a stop, a moment of hesitation, he jumps in. Too late. Too late. Too late._

Philip can’t breathe. He clutches his chest as if he could dig his fingers in and rip the pain out. He whirls around to get away, to find a pocket of silence in the endless sound ringing in his ears and barely makes it to outer edge of the platform. His chest tightening, he leans his back to it and he swallows a mouthful of bile, trying to remember where he is, when it is, what’s happening. His legs won’t hold him, he sinks with his back to the wall, gasping.

_He turns him over. There is red in the water. There is red on his shirt. There is red on his hands. The red trickles between his fingers as he holds the hole in his chest, spills through, sickeningly warm. Lukas isn’t moving._

Philip can’t breathe.

_Philip!_

His voice reaches him through the ringing. Philip holds onto it, listening to it and before he can turn to him, Lukas is beside him, kneeling, hands on his face, tilting his head up and his eyes are so blue, the only color in the pounding grey. The effort to draw air cuts through his lungs, pain so sharp he is choking with it. Philip grabs onto his shirt, desperate and suffocating. Tries to speak but his throat is locked tight; no air, no words, nothing comes out, nothing goes in.

 _Philip breathe, you are alright, breathe!_ Lukas tells him and he looks so panicked, even now Philip wants to reach out and hold him. His name falls from his lips, alien even to him, barely a rasp and so frayed it doesn’t even make sense. Lukas is going blurry. Everything is going blurry.

 _I’m here, Philip I’m right here, listen to me, listen to my voice, you are alright. We are both alright, we’re at school,_ Lukas leans in, brushing his hair away from his face, cupping his face with a hand. His thumb brushes along his cheek and Philip would recognize that feeling in his sleep, he closes his eyes to it, trying to inhale, to keep the air in his lungs.

 _I’m here, breathe Philip, please, I’m right here_ , Lukas pleads with him and then his hand falls on top of his and he pries his fingers from his shirt, and it feels wrong; his whole hand is numb and muscles pulled all taut and he can’t will it to work but Lukas takes it and flattens it against his chest. _There, feel it, Philip I’m alright, we are both okay, god please don’t cry, Philip please don’t cry,_ Lukas croaks, leaning his forehead against his and Philip hasn’t even realized he is crying but the feel of Lukas’ heartbeat under his palm throbs through him, and he looks into his eyes, lets that sharp blue be his only focus and the vice around his heart gives away half an inch, the knot in his throat loosens for a breath.

He wants to take Lukas in his arms and tell him it will all be okay but all he can do is hold on and listen to his voice as Lukas wipes his tears away with a hand and his lips press to his temple. His fingers run down his skin to cup the side of his neck sticky with sweat and he keeps talking to him, repeating his name over and over again. They breathe together, with Philip’s hand on Lukas’ chest and Philip listens to the ringing slowly subside; whistles and cheers replace the noise and feeling returns to his hands like streams thawing after winter. Throbbing with each beat, his heart settles in its pace and he breathes, rapidly at first and then slower, deeper; feeling each one release the tension in his muscles.  

Sitting beside him with his back to the platform like Philip’s, Lukas holds his hand and kisses his forehead with Philip’s head on his shoulder. Philip feels like every bone in his body has been carved empty, every muscle snapped loose from the nerves, every inch of him sore with exhaustion. He sighs open mouthed, listening to the rustle of his own breathing and he turns into Lukas before he feels him move beside him, watches him pull out his phone and make a call.  

_Helen hi… Yeah I’m alright but can you come to the school… No, he isn’t but he is better now… Yes, he is with me... Yeah I know… I am not going to… Yes… Helen... I’m coming too… I know but it’s fine. It’ll be worse if I don’t…. Thank you._

Lukas hangs up and Philip watches his fingers return to his skin, tracing along the veins on his hands.

 _Lukas,_ he mutters and then there is a hand on his jaw, tipping his face and the blue finds him, vast and summer bright. Philip gazes at him and wonders how many times these eyes have saved him in the past three weeks, how many times he has called out to him when his mother’s ghost held him at night, how many times he stifled the deafening sound of panic in the softness of his touch…

 _People will see,_ he tells him, ready to move away and Lukas looks over Philip’s head to the track field, to the crowd of people dispersing with the race over, others scattered around doing their best versions of sneaking from mandatory school activity, trying to find ways to skip class. His eyes find his again, fingers gentle along his jaw and he shrugs with a timid smile, pulling him in, _I don’t care,_ he tells him.

_Lukas, you don’t have to. I don’t want you to-_

Lukas leans in, kissing him on the lips before he has a chance to finish. Foreheads pressed, he stares into his eyes and his words are feather light against Philip’s lips, _I’m not letting you go._

Helen arrives in less than ten minutes and all the way from the platform to the parking lot she’s parked and walking through the crowds of students and groups of teachers, through everyone he has known for years, Lukas never once lets go of his hand.  

* * *

 

 

 

_\- You knew it already, didn't you?_

_\- Knew what?_

_\- What I told you earlier… in your room. Before Helen and Gabe came back._

_\- Yeah, I knew._

_\- I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner._

_\- You have._

_\- I haven’t. I should have. You needed to know._

_\- Lukas, I have always known._

_\- ... How?_

_\- I've felt it every time you touched me._

_\- Philip…_

_\- It feels like the words are in your hands. You… you have always been putting your words on my skin._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The day I stop finding them in bus rides and gold of sunlight across the sea, the day I stop hearing their voice in the music in my ears and aching for them in the wishes I make at 11:11 will be the day I will stop writing about them. 
> 
> Until then... stay with me.  
> Ask for more.  
> They deserve so much more than this.  
> #wewanteyewitnessseason2
> 
>  
> 
> PS: The last dialogue bit is a reference to chapter 4 of Deja Vu. You don't need to read Deja Vu to follow this but they belong to the same series, same universe I've built for them and Deja Vu is the backbone of it.  
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
